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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25872985">Revivre; Sacrosanct</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badwxlf/pseuds/Badwxlf'>Badwxlf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sanctified 'Verse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons &amp; Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Heirs Of Despair</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>...too soon?, Accidental Self-sabotage, F/F, Fantasizing, Guilt, Headbutts, I'd say D needs a hug but she might headbutt you if you get too close ahahaha, Insecurity, Intimacy, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Prayer, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery &amp; Symbolism, Self-Hatred, The tags for this one are sadder than the original dang..., again sorta, gay panicking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:48:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25872985</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badwxlf/pseuds/Badwxlf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <span class="small">Her head started to swim and her errant thoughts rushed to detonate against themselves, a hurricane of maimed fears and shredded incoherencies merging with Zulabar’s chaotic mental debris. It was far too much, and all in the span of less than a couple of seconds. D’s heartbeat thudded through her like a war drum, fierce and demanding, rivaled only by the harsh, rapid draw of her lungs.</span>
  </p>
  <p><span class="small">Fuck, <i>fuck</i>—Veda was so <i>close.</i> What if D fucked up? What if she tried to kiss her?</span> </p>
</blockquote><b>AU of an AU:</b> instead of leaning into Veda's touch during the events of <i>Sacrosanct</i> D panics, headbutting Veda and running away instead. The fic starts off much the same until that point, wherein it diverges.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>D | Dahlia (Heirs of Despair)/Veda (Heirs of Despair), Original D&amp;D Character(s)/Original D&amp;D Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sanctified 'Verse [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Revivre; Sacrosanct</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>“And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith.”</i>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her skin would be soft, D thinks. Almost as soft as the woman herself, and just as warm. They’d lie together on a bed of furs and cozy cotton, cushioned by pillows stuffed with only the finest feathers. Indulgences D could never before afford for herself would cradle them both as they’d embrace each other, comfortable and content, perfectly safe and so delightfully, deliciously alone.</p>
<p>Veda would smile a smile she’d only reserve for D, whisper D’s name in her ear. Giggle as she watched her shiver at the sound, heart racing as their breaths mingled between their parted lips.</p>
<p><em> “You’re lovely,” </em> Veda would tell her, and she’d mean it. She really would. D would know, would see it in the fondness of her eyes, wholly unguarded. <em> “No other blessing could ever compare,” </em> she’d say.</p>
<p>Then, as D blinks away tears, Veda would nuzzle her face into the nape of D’s neck. Would breathe in her scent, press a kiss to her thundering pulse. The heat of her would radiate onto D’s skin and singe her sins from the outside in, cleansing her of her vices purely by means of acceptance.</p>
<p>D would allow Veda into the darkest of her depths and find them made brighter, consecration woven into her flesh upon each reverent touch. Every coarse scar would soon come to soften, to heal. She was chosen irregardless, loved all the same. Hallowed by the embrace of a woman far too kind to condemn.</p>
<p>Veda would let D touch her, and she would never flinch away. </p>
<p>D suspects the joy in her heart could grow enough to kill her. It would threaten to overflow, exciting currents far too foreign, far too overwhelming for too withered a vessel. It would be a death she’d welcome, though. Martyrdom in the arms of a saint. It would be forgiveness found anew, sealed with a kiss brought to her lonely lips.</p>
<p><em>Goddess,</em> <em>please,</em> D would find herself praying, devout in her desperation. <em>Please let me have this, </em>she’d beg.</p>
<p>With her braid undone, Veda’s hair would fan around them. Every strand would be silken to the touch. Veda would peel the last of her layers away, divest D of her own.</p>
<p>
  <em> I love her. </em>
</p>
<p>Their hands would travel, fingertips seeking sensitive flesh. It would be a beautiful thing to melt into each other’s arms. Every breath, every subsequent sigh would be the greatest, most holy hymn.</p>
<p>
  <em> Please, Goddess, don’t take her away— </em>
</p>
<p>“Church girl? Really?”</p>
<p>D flinched, and her fantasy fell apart. It ruptured at the seams, gutted by a sharp, grating voice. </p>
<p>Reality settled back into place. The campfire flickered before her. Epsilon perched on a log and strummed his little hurdy-gurdy as Darkeethus listened placidly to the side. Thiara innocently tossed treats to Ren along the edge of the tree line.</p>
<p>And Veda… Veda sat only a few feet away, looking to the night sky as sparks of lightning flared atop the leather of her gloves. D could still feel the ghost of her touch, and it ached.</p>
<p>Zulabar had pushed his way across her headspace to take center focus. He sneered. “Little miss goody-two-shoes?” he continued. “Again: <em> really?” </em></p>
<p>Fuck. </p>
<p>D groaned, suddenly exhausted. “Leave me alone,” she whispered.</p>
<p>“You think <em> she’d </em> honestly want <em> you?” </em> Zulabar asked, and it sounded so unnecessarily amused that D clenched her fists at her sides, incensed.</p>
<p>“If anyone could, it would be her.”</p>
<p>“Darlin’, she’s a prissy lil’ bitch. The Goddess fuckin’ loves her. For all the people that wouldn’t, that <em> shouldn’t</em>, she’d be at the top of that list.”</p>
<p>“No,” D hissed. “She’s nice. Kind. She’s different.”</p>
<p>D knew Zulabar could sense her desperation, feel the fragile little seed of hope that took root within her. It must’ve been akin to a weed in his captious eyes. </p>
<p>“You know that for sure?”</p>
<p>D grit her teeth, unwilling to dignify him with a response yet fully aware of how he didn’t need one, not really, to read her mind. Before he could taunt her once more, she shot up from her seat and pivoted swiftly, moving to return to her tent. She could sense how he delighted, so cruelly, in her heartbreak.</p>
<p>Veda, startled by D’s rapid rise, turned around before the other could make an exit. Her eyes were wide with concern, and the stars which she observed so carefully just moments ago seemed to twinkle within them, captured in the golden galaxy of her gaze.</p>
<p>“Is something the matter?” she asked, conscientious. Polite.</p>
<p>D tried to smile. It didn’t quite fit her face at the moment, and Zulabar’s laughter echoed through her head. “Nope, everything’s fine.”</p>
<p>But, of course, Veda could sense her discomfort. She instinctively shifted, poised to rise and approach D should she give the word.</p>
<p>“Truly?” Veda inquired, tilting her head. “But… You seem troubled. Please don’t hesitate to request of me whatever you would like.”</p>
<p>The fire danced across her features, lending her earthy lilac skin a warm glow. D’s fingers itched to reach forward, to close the distance between them. To caress Veda’s cheek and prove her demon wrong.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m sure. ‘M fine. Just tired.” </p>
<p>Veda’s brow furrowed. She didn’t quite believe her, but how was she to know that she herself lay at the center of D’s discomfort? </p>
<p>Sighing, D tried another excuse. “Alright,” she said. “I might be coming down with something, but still, I’ll be fine. I’ll just sleep it off.”</p>
<p>Veda rose fully then. She stepped closer to D, carefully closing the distance between them. D froze, stiffening as she fought the instinct to just step into the older woman’s arms. To embrace once more, as they did once upon a dream.</p>
<p>“If you suspect yourself ill, then please, allow me,” Veda said. She slipped one of her gloves off, leaving her palm bear. Gently, allowing D every opportunity to push her away, Veda’s hand glided onto D’s skin, brushing just underneath the curve of her horns and onto her forehead. Taking her temperature.</p>
<p>Veda waited a moment, considering. She made a thoughtful noise, before shifting her hand lower to cup D’s jaw. D’s eyes widened then, but before she could really react, or even voice her confusion, Veda leaned forward. She pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed in concentration. Checking carefully for a fever. Feeling, sensing, diagnosing. </p>
<p>D mouth felt dry and she clenched it shut, as if plumes of her desire, winding like smoke, would threaten to escape her lips now that Veda’s own lingered mere inches away. Her head started to swim and her errant thoughts rushed to detonate against themselves, a hurricane of maimed fears and shredded incoherencies merging with Zulabar’s chaotic mental debris. It was far too much, and all in the span of less than a couple of seconds. D’s heartbeat thudded through her like a war drum, fierce and demanding, rivaled only by the harsh, rapid draw of her lungs.</p>
<p>Fuck, <em> fuck</em>—Veda was so <em> close</em>. What if D fucked up? What if she tried to kiss her? Did Veda know how she felt? Was D that obvious? Of <em> course </em> she doesn’t know, she wouldn’t dare come near her if she did—but, oh, she can find out now, she could feel it, can’t she, feel the flush coloring D’s skin, hear the blood rushing through her ears, hear her caged soul clawing at the demon she sold it too, hear her heart begging to be held—every horrible, disgraceful thought D had ever entertained, every fantasy of the woman before her, could bleed through their foreheads, seeping, skin on skin, mind to mind—</p>
<p>And then suddenly, surging painfully to the forefront of her mounting panic, came the irrational thought that Veda could absorb it all and know, just <em> know, </em> and she’d hate it, hate D, and D wasn’t <em> ready</em>, she <em> wasn’t</em>—</p>
<p>D’s body jerked into motion before she could stop it, before she could realize what she was doing. Her reflexive instincts of self-preservation took over. She needed to get away from the imminent threat before her, needed to incapacitate it and run. </p>
<p>She kicked against the earth and propelled herself forward, slamming her skull into Veda’s own.</p>
<p>Veda gasped sharply, startled and pained. D felt the immediate loss of her presence as Veda stumbled backwards and away from her, and the resulting mixture of relief and disappointment at the loss of their intimacy further clouded D’s capacity for rational thought. Veda only had a moment to train a bewildered, hurt gaze upon D before the tiefling stuttered a hoarse apology and blinked into complete invisibility. </p>
<p>But being invisible wasn’t enough. She turned and bolted, running as if the ground itself threatened to cave beneath her feet.</p>
<p>She abandoned her earlier intention of ambling back to her tent and headed straight for the forest instead. The ground crunched beneath her boots, twigs snapping and hoarfrost crumbling with every frantic, careless step. D didn’t know how far she ran, but she finally stopped when one particular bush, thorny and riddled with thick brambles, clung stubbornly enough to her skirt that she couldn’t just haphazardly shake it off.</p>
<p>Huffing, she tried to rip the offending foliage away, but her hands trembled too much. The adrenaline within her burdened her precision. She would only serve to rip a hole in her dress if she continued, so she gave up with a massive, frustrated sigh and flopped onto the stiff dirt and craggy wintergrass beneath her.</p>
<p>She drew her knees up to her chest and hid her head in the cradle she created. The sounds of the forest, subdued beneath the silver moonlight, filtered through the cage of D’s arms and legs and settled into her chest. Her breathing began to calm down, her heart began to slow. And, finally, her mind began to catch up with her.</p>
<p>A headbutt.</p>
<p>She just headbutted Veda. </p>
<p>Veda. The healer. One of the nicest people D’s ever met. D’s biggest crush yet.</p>
<p>She just headbutted Veda—sweet, naive Veda—<em>while she was checking to see if D was feeling alright. </em></p>
<p>What. The fuck.</p>
<p>D groaned aloud, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes. She knew she’d fuck up but this was on a whole different level. A completely new league of professional bullshittery, even for her.</p>
<p>She hated herself so much she could choke on it. She wouldn’t be surprised if she came back only to discover that Veda did now, too.</p>
<p>Tears began to well up in D’s eyes and she fruitlessly tried to rub them away. It was always like this in the end, wasn’t it? Everyone would come to hate her if they didn’t already. She’d scare them away somehow. If it wasn’t because of her race, it would be because of her face, her scars, her poverty, her awkwardness, her personality.</p>
<p>She just hoped that, somehow, it would be different this time. Maybe she could’ve kept her act together, gotten Veda to like her. To love her back.</p>
<p>Zulabar’s smug mirth tickled the periphery of her mind. He was right, of course, and D had only herself to blame.</p>
<p>She stayed like that for a while, just thinking, sitting on the forest floor with brambles stuck to the skirt of her dress. The stars swept slowly through the night sky and continued on into the heavens, heedless of her plight. She kept replaying the scene with Veda over and over in her head, watching herself commit social suicide through an infinite array of mortifying perspectives, ruminating over what she could have done differently as the winter air threaded through her bones.</p>
<p>She didn’t know how long she was out for, but it must have been for a few hours at the least. When she followed her trail back to the camp the fire had died. It was dark and silent, woefully devoid of her friends’ activity. They had already retreated back to their tents to sleep through the rest of the night.</p>
<p>D swallowed the lump in her throat as she quietly slipped into her tent. Laying herself down upon her sleeping bag, she imagined the deaths of countless potential futures lining themselves before her. Worlds where she might’ve been happy, where she might’ve actually come to matter. Where Veda could’ve been here with her, wrapping D in her arms and pressing warm, sleepy kisses to D’s cheeks.</p>
<p><em> Please, </em> D begged, praying for the first time in years to a Goddess she did not worship. A Goddess legitimized through Veda’s devotion alone. <em> Let her love me. </em></p>
<p>The memory of Veda’s touch burned painfully hot. Alone in her tent, D felt so very cold.</p>
<p>
  <em> Please love me. </em>
</p>
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